What Do You Know?
by Pippin
Summary: West Side Story - Schrank questions the Jets about the rumble, and the three deaths that occured as a result. Takes place literally right where the show ends.
1. Default Chapter

AN: As the child of two lawyers I know due process and that what Schrank does throughout this tale is completely wrong. However, anyone who knows anything about the law and WSS knows that Schrank's conduct is never law abiding when dealing with the gangs, and that he can get away with it because no one in power seems to care.

Also, just for a note… I have Riff paired with Velma here, because… Because that is the way it is. And because I'm basing this off of the play, which is so much better than the movie. Though I gotta give the movie props for having Russ Tamblyn. That guy just freakin' rules.

* * *

"Three, in one night you've gotten three killed, two of your own and one of theirs," Schrank scoffed, "True, rats like you make having a morgue in the area necessary, but you don't have to be so eager to keep them busy," He finished his opening speech with puff of his cigarette. He watched the gang, a certain sadistic glee resulting from the subdued expressions they each wore. Even A-Rab and Big Deal, usually so quick with a quip said nothing as the lieutenant's beady eyes scrutinized each of their dirty faces.

The Jets, standing disheveled outside the morgue, leaving the Shark's, Doc and their girls within to grieve over the three bodies, tried to ignore the fact that Schrank blaming them for Tony's death, as well as Riff and Bernardo's. Usually they were so good at letting it roll off their backs, pretending not to care when blamed for society's problems, excluding Action, but somehow this was different. They knew what, and who they were being held responsible for, and that Schrank wasn't the only one who held them responsible.

"Guess I was wrong last night, eh boys?" Schrank accented the word 'boys' as he stared down at Anybodys, who avoided looking up at him, which made him grin as he turned back to Action, "Regular folks do rub with the gold teeth for something other than rumbles," Another puff of his cigarette the gang as a whole flinched, "Oh, sorry. I shouldn't speak ill of the dead, right?"

"Just get to the point already, we don't deserve this," Action snarled.

Schrank looked at him for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching. Action was the most amusing, in Schrank's mind. They were all so awful, so set on destruction and making the world around them worse, that having one around he could get to, strike back at where it hurt made him feel better, knowing there was one he knew he could get back at for every mean spirited, disrespectful comment and see the pain the little fool felt, "Oh, but you do, Action. I sincerely think you do deserve this. But you are right. The spics will be done crying over their boy soon enough and I'll need to talk to them before they can run off. I just need to know about the rumble, who killed who to keep the captain happy, and of course, who killed you're buddy Tony," Schrank felt a buss of excitement as he realized for the first time that the founders this gang of delinquents were both dead, which would probably result in them each going their separate ways. He relished the thought as he waited for a response.

The silence was long, as each Jet glanced to each other, making sure they each were holding their tongues before looking to Action, confirming Schrank's suspicions that the little hot head was indeed calling the shots now. He took a deliberate step towards Baby John, who A-Rab tried to shield, but was easily pushed aside, "C'mon Baby John. You don't want to get into trouble, do you?" His voice dripped with a false concern that sickened the boy, "After all, not cooperatin' last night allowed the rumble to go down. Just imagine, if you'd cooperated last night there would have been no rumble, no stabbing. Riff would probably be spending some special time with Velma right now, don't you think? But you just couldn't bring yourself to _do the right thing_, could you?" Baby John chose to keep silent, hiding behind A-Rab, who seemed more than willing to protect his little friend.

Schrank didn't count himself out though, he considered himself lucky. There was more than one weak link in the chain as far as he was concerned. He turned from Baby John, rounding on Anybodys, "What about you? You want to tell me anything?" He knew she was threatened, and could easily understand why. He was easily three times her size, maybe even four times, he thought as he looked down at her skinny little frame.

She looked up with him, her little chin jutting out impudently, "No sir, I don't."

"Of course not," Schrank said softly, not missing a beat, "You were probably out getting tips from your sister, right?"

"Cut that," Action's voice cut in harshly, though Schrank had never heard him, even when he was poking fun at Krupke or himself, speak without that edge that had the rest of their little gang constantly on alert. Schrank leaned back slightly, finding it funny that the boys were now moving in front of Anybodys, "No, not your sister… To have the boys jumpin' to your rescue like that you would need a classier teacher," He turned to Action, whose face was already reddening, no doubt he had an idea about what was coming, "Your mother I'm guessing."

As he had done the previous night he aimed low when he realized no substantial information was coming anytime soon, and sat back to watch the show as the boys held back their friend. He was so angry, hurt and, most amusing to Schrank, helpless to strike back. But then something different happened. Little Anybodys was right in front of Action, her hands on his arms to help hold him back and Action looking down at her, his expression softening and his body relaxing, no longer fighting the other boys. He found the few raised eyebrows amongst the Jets equally encouraging to his mean streak.

Schrank felt a laugh come from his own mouth. Deep down he knew he was just feeding his own sickness by mocking them, strengthening a poison that had been within him since his own rough childhood on the foul streets. But he didn't care about 'deep down' at the moment, or the naïve understanding Glad Hand and the new cops tried to show these kids. He cared about satisfying his own thirst for justice, a twisted kind he knew would get to them, "Ah, so she's one of those exclusive little cats, eh? Maybe if you had a job you could afford better-"

"Shut up, just shut up!" There was the rage, giving him that sick, sweet satisfaction, "Some of us may deserve this, but Anybodys," He glanced to the others and quickly added, "And Baby John, don't. You might, though I find it doubtful, be better than some of us at bein' a human bein' but not them. They are way outta your league."

Schrank found was dumbfounded, surprised that the boy felt so strongly about it. Just a few days earlier, when the Sharks and the Jets had had their little scuffle on the playground he had looked back after threatening them with a beating, and seen the Jets being cruel to the twiggy little girl. He couldn't make out the words but the body language, especially the very graphic language from the Jet clown, A-Rab, had made hearing their actual words completely unnecessary. And to follow up that bit of cruelty Riff and Action himself had physically and very roughly thrown her out of the gang's circle.

He honestly thought there was something wrong with women in general. They seemed to like being mistreated; even women of class thought it 'dangerous,' and 'sexy,' and thus, appealing. None of the guys in the group were a particularly great catch, at least he couldn't see any of them being one, but Action… Average lookin', but there wasn't much choice to go on as far as looks went in this neighborhood. It was his personality that Schrank would have thought would drive the girl away. He'd heard from Krupke that it had scared a number of girls away at that damned dance Glad Hand had organized. One misstep, one bad choice in words and he could see the boy murdering someone. Why someone would want to be friends with someone like that was hard enough to comprehend, but an actual relationship? Idiotic was the word that popped to his head.

In Schrank's bitter mind Action's taste was dead poor. The girl purposely played at being a little boy for heaven's sake! His little eyes looked her up and down. She had little to offer physically, her body seemed trapped in a shapeless stage. Her face, under all that dirt wasn't pretty and definitely not beautiful. Not that she was misshapen; she could be pretty if she cared… But she chose to play tomboy, though he could see how she could maybe be cute even then.

_She's not bad lookin', you're just used to not seeing somethin' _not_ bad about these kids, _Schrank was mildly amused. Those 'deep down' thoughts had gained a bit of a voice within his conscious, almost made him regret what he'd been saying, almost made him feel like he had when he'd first become a cop. With this last glimmer still in his mind he looked each over, feeling guilt for the first time in years. A-Rab trying to escape the harshness of the world by laughing at it, Baby John idealizing and being protected by people he considered brothers, and he, Schrank taking advantage of his fear, Diesel, big and slow, but generally nice using his strength to take care of the littler gang members. And then there was Action and Anybodys, two lonely, dejected kids who just happened to understand each other. And here he was, big, mean, jaded Schrank, mocking and beating down the good in them.

As he shook his head, trying to figure out how to express that he agreed with Action, that they didn't deserve what he'd been giving them, the Sharks started out of the building, and looked back at the seething Jets, noting Anybodys hand discreetly holding Actions forearm. After a sigh and lighting a new cigarette he jerked his head, signaling that they could leave for the time being, "I suppose your taste could be worse," He muttered, as the gang left, leaving the lieutenant to nurse the guilt that had wormed its way into his system.

_Three dead,_ He thought bitterly, _And if you had seen them last night, or last month, or last year the way you just did, maybe Riff would be dancing with Velma, or Anita with Bernardo, or that girl Maria with Tony._

"Senor?" That sweet little voice, though hoarse with tears, "Senor, you are crying," Maria whispered, her large brown eyes staring at him in surprise.

Rubbing his eyes Schrank noted bitterly that she was right, "I am," He murmured softly, "What do you know."


	2. Peace Seekers

Author's rant: I had little to no intention of writing more West Side Story stuff, but now that my run of the show is done I feel a great void. Yeah, it is mostly from having my evenings free, but I miss WSS a lot, mainly for the people I got to hang out with. I was Anybodys and I miss hanging out with my Jet buddies (and yes, in real life I am friends with them). As a plus I have time to write, and heal my many, many bruises.

All the extra girls got their names from the girls who portrayed them, excluding the girls who were named in the script. All pairings are based on who danced with whom in our show, excluding the scripted pairings. Which reminds me, Riff is NOT with Graziella. I am going with Velma because… I just am, and I already went through that.

Disclaimer: I don't own West Side Story. But you already knew that.

* * *

Chino pursed his lips, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Maria. He watched her movements warily, as he had for days, since she had threatened him with his own gun. It chilled him to remember that night. Bad enough to remember bloodying his own hands, but he had almost driven Maria, someone who had been so pure and sweet he had been unsure that she was real, to do the same. The rage had terrified him to the point that he had been unable to even relish the terror that had shot through the Jets when she had turned the gun on them.

Just thinking about enjoying their fear made him want to go to Confession.

"Chino, they were sincere," Maria voice was firm, an odd contrast to her face, which looked pale and fragile, especially against the black clothing she had worn to Tony's funeral. She wanted him to bring the Sharks to the gym, as Action had requested, to resolve what remnants of dispute still existed between the groups.

Chino agreed that he did seem sincere, though cautious considering he was flanked by the Jets' muscle man, Diesel, and the beanpole of a tomboy who had been trying to be a Jet longer than the Sharks had been fighting them. But he was still uneasy, more comfortable letting things lie, going on with life quietly and simply avoiding what had occurred between the two gangs. He wanted no part of conflict any more, and Schrank had given him a second chance at peace by convincing Chino's priest to insist that he had been consoling Chino when they had heard a gunshot. He didn't want to waste the one courtesy the lieutenant had extended him.

Maria raised her chin slightly; a look of pride and maturity on her face that reminded Chino of the paintings of the saints his mother had painted on the walls of his old home in Puerto Rico. She held his gaze for a moment before speaking, "Chino, you… this is a chance to make real peace, not just an… an uncomfortable tension," She stumbled over the English, but she stubbornly continued her efforts to become fluent in the language through practice.

"Maria, I…" He trailed off when he saw her eyes, blurred with tears as they had been for days. She was merciful enough not to say it, but one look at her face and he could see the silent accusations, the blame. He owed her more than he could ever repay, and they both knew it. "I will go to the gym then," He whispered, not in defeat but out of loyalty. He glanced out the window. A few hours until sundown and the appointed meeting time. Time enough to gather the Sharks and tell them what was happening.

It was then that Chino realized he wasn't spared incarceration so he could avoid conflict. He was spared so he could atone for his crimes against Maria, and one day ask her and God for forgiveness.

* * *

"This won't work. I shoulda listened to Diesel," Action nervously put out his cigarette and loosened his black tie, noting Anybodys lowering her head slightly. He felt bad for upsetting her, but he was far from supportive of her idea to actually settle their differences with the Sharks. He had to give her credit for getting the majority of the Jets to support the idea. Action and his second in command, Diesel, had been among the few less receptive, but even they had wavered in their when Anybodys had come to them.

"Action, if we don't do this nothing changes," She counseled him, making Action wonder if Diesel was really the second-in-command. "Everyone will just continue being miserable, pretending things have changed when they haven't. If we don't do this things will either stay the same or get worse. I don't want things to get worse; I don't want people dying anymore."

Action turned to face her, the corners of his mouth forming a sardonic smirk, "You're good. You should be workin' for the president, you know?"

"I'm not kidding!" She kept her voice low, but couldn't stop the extreme emotion from saturating her voice. "It can't happen again, I won't be like-"

"Velma? You won't be," His voice seemed slightly scolding, a bit exasperated. He put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a little shake, "Alright?" His voice was gentler this time.

Anybodys nodded, looking childish biting her lip to keep from appearing more upset than necessary. She had been to close to losing him. First Maria pointing that gun at him then he picked up the gun. The cops would have gotten him for it if Krupke hadn't claimed to have been questioning him at the time of the shots.

"I guess it was bad enough when she pointed that gun at me, huh?" Another nod, this time her face wincing as she tried to block tears. "Don't want that happening again anymore than you," He muttered, brushing some of her short brown hair from her face, "So I guess I'll give it a shot." Her face relaxed and she looked back down, a relieved smile on her face.

And that is how it was between them. They denied nothing and admitted nothing. What was between them was simply there and they let it exist in that way.

* * *

Anxious watched Juano and the two Jets carefully. They were the first at the gym, before even their newly appointed leaders, and Juano had opted to try and start things out on the right foot with Baby John and A-Rab.

It hadn't taken the one named A-Rab to start treating Juano in the same manner as he treated Baby John. Anxious had always been told that younger people were quicker learners, and here he saw proof of it, with himself as the example of the older person to set in their ways to learn. He watched the three of them, laughing as loud as they dared, afraid of upsetting the memories of their former leaders.

_Former_ leaders… Anxious knew Bernardo would be teasing him about his nickname for being worried. If Bernardo had been alive and accepted the invitation to this peace council (unlikely, in his opinion) he would think Anxious overly concerned. All of the Sharks had thought he was always too worried. A mother hen in a lot of ways. Since Bernardo's death he had noticed a lot less of that, more respect for his pleas for caution.

He looked up as Pepe entered, or rather reentered, the gym. He looked tense, which put Anxious on edge considering Pepe was much bigger than him. He knew Pepe would never hurt him, but he couldn't help but think of everyone as a possible threat.

"It took some begging, and many promises of no fighting, but Glad Hand has agreed to leave us alone while we talk."

"You think it'll be just talking?"

"The gym is neutral territory, the Jets always respected that."

"Except the other night-"

"That was different." Pepe didn't say why and he didn't have too.

The uneasy silence between the two Sharks was short lived, thankfully, due to the entrance of Chino. He nodded to Anxious and Pepe, casting a nervous glance to Juano, perplexed that the few years age difference between him and Juano could make one of them so much more adept at making peace.

_Maybe it isn't the age_, He thought, remembering how he had killed someone a few nights earlier. He sat next to Anxious and his second in command, watching the three younger boys with a subdued expression.

One by one the gangs trickled in, each looking around nervously before fully entering the gym, checking to make sure they weren't the only ones there, then going to their designated sides of the gym, where they had danced. As the numbers grew Juano, Baby John and A-Rab separated, joining their gangs reluctantly.

Chino stepped to the front of his gang, unintentionally mimicking Bernardo as he watched Action. He knew enough to keep his distance around him. Chino had always been shy, naturally quiet, patiently choosing his words. And he was now thankful for that personality, since this was Action he was dealing with, and dealing with him, Chino had both observed and heard, was like walking through a mine field.

"What do we need to do to make things better?" Action was a surprise as the first to speak, first to extend a hand to repair the damage that had been done. Though, no one would have been surprised by his behavior had Anybodys nudge to his ribs been less discrete.

"How about dropping the term spics?" Toro snapped, looking ready to start another rumble, and understandably considering how Bernardo had been like a brother to both him and the rest of the Sharks.

"Oh, well then maybe you'll want to stop with the micks?" Snowboy shot back, his red hair making it obvious why he took it personal.

Toro stepped foreword, Anxious at grabbing at his arm to stop him. But he stopped himself, his eyes bulging as he stared beyond the Jets. The glare Maria was giving him made him shudder, and he stepped back, looking away.

They were all their, backing up Maria as a silent presence to the gangs, Rita, Toro's girl, comforting Velma with Graziella.

The gangs stared at the girls, dumbstruck, none of them moving until Action turned, glaring at Anybodys. He had known she didn't want him hurt, but he didn't think she would go so far as to bring the other girls. She was willing to emotionally blackmail him, the leader of the Jets, for that cause? He didn't know whether to be impressed or to punch her.

"You should _not _be here," Pepe scolded Consuela, whose nostrils flared at his condescending tone.

"Oh, shouldn't we?" Her voice was a soprano, effectively shattering any focus that was not on her, "On last check your little councils did a lot to change our lives," She gestured broadly to the other girls, who nodded angrily in agreement.

"Look, you girls stay out of this and let us handle this," Action adopted a similar tone as Pepe's, though a little more edgy.

"We tried that," Anybodys said pointedly, flinching when Action whirled around with a clenched fist. Even after he caught himself and relaxed his hand she didn't let the tension leave her body.

"You told them to come?" Moose gave the tomboy an incredulous look before glaring, "Figures."

"It's what we get for letting the twerp into the Jets." Diesel voiced his agreement.

"Be quiet, Diesel!" It was Nell who spoke, a surprise considering the angry glares she had shot Anybodys since she and Action had suddenly behaved like such close friends. At the dance he had been with Nell, but after the rumble she was forgotten for a skinny tomboy. In spite of this she approached the gangs, followed by the other girls, and stood between Diesel and Anybodys, glad to find that Minnie was backing her up in the protective behavior. Diesel held his hands in front of him, in a surrender position, in response to the glares, particularly the dark one he received from Action.

Anita was the next to speak, catching each Jet in a cold glare before doing so, "I can learn to forgive, and be civil," She turned to the Sharks, "And that is harder for me than it is for you, so don't you _dare_ start behaving like this is not possible."

The Jets looked away, each feeling guilty that the Sharks assumed she was only making reference to her losing Bernardo. They knew exactly how dedicated she was to stopping the fighting, they had found out when they realized she hadn't told the other Sharks about their attack on her.

Schrank, Krupke, Anita… They had all kept silent about their crimes, believing that, given a second chance, these kids could change for the better.

It would be a shame to let them down.


End file.
